As The Autumn Leaves Fell
by TheOne16th
Summary: All was peaceful, at least, for Carol. The consequences of Filia's of choice were unfolding day-by-day in her last two weeks, and the truth is becoming far too huge to hide. The cycle will become complete, a war of gods will ignite, her shrouded past will unfold, and at the center, stands her, Samson, and Carol.
1. Prologue: A Dream

**Prologue: A Dream**

_Where was she?_

It was dark, pitch black dark. Last Carol remembered was… No, she can't even remember that part anymore, the part of how she got here. She felt like she was floating, like in a void, like in space, where you don't feel the ground and don't feel the touch of the air, like her body was only a weightless shell.

_Was this a dream? _No, it can't be, she knew somehow that it wasn't, but a part of her refuses to accept that this is real.

She tries to open her eyes, but she can't, like a certain kind of fear stopped her from doing so. It constrained her with invisible chains and locks.

How did she even get here? Even that she couldn't remember. It was frustrating not to know the answer, even more frustrating to be stuck in a place that she didn't even know of.

She reaches out for any thought, any vivid memory at all, but the more she reached out, the more she forgot, the more she lost even the ability to reach out. Was this how it felt like to be stuck, to be out of her mind?

Carol remembered only her name and what she was, but then things began to fleet like a sailing ship that ever so slowly left into the unending horizon. It was getting impossible to even try to recall.

_Buer… Skull… Girl… Parasite… La b Zero… Valentine… Brain… Drain… Abandonment… Rage… Fury… Loneliness… Filia… Help…_

What were these words, these vague pieces? Carol thought. She held on to them, fearing for these fragments of memory will be the only things she'll ever remember as she floated endlessly in this mysterious abyss that drained her mind. Though the words stayed for a minute, she cannot make them stay forever. Something stops her, some words slowly fall down and disappear, and some began to just disappear all together.

Her mind was emptying, and the frustration sinks down. And now, she felt lonely, because there was no one to think of, not even herself. Her feelings stayed, but thinking seemed impossible.

Everything grew helpless… She felt helpless… And now, she was afraid, lost, and lonely. How did she end up in this cruel void? This… darkness that she had descended into without even knowing how she got there? She wanted to scream, but she could not. A paralysis was taking her, immobilizing every nerve and muscle, every reflex and movement that might remind her that she was in control. Breathing was growing so difficult, and soon, it would be impossible…

For maybe an hour, she was stuck in this madness, suffering under the suffocation that could not kill her. She couldn't even struggle, letting the darkness take her… She was innocent, but this seemed inevitable.

She would've been very happy to die, but even that she couldn't do. The suffocation was strangling, the suffering growing, and she could not struggle, not even give up. Freedom… It's what she needed, but she could not even fight for such a hopeful feeling…

As the words fell, she heard the last one escape. A dying thought to take the place of her final breath. _Help…_

And as it seeped down from the depths of her mind and into the depths of this abyss, a great flash overtook the darkness. Her eyes were opening yet they were closed… She could see now, not words, but a picture.

Her friend, her only friend, the sweet tender smile that granted solace, and eyes with a red-hot core that resonated warmth, young and full of endless energy. She was the only person Carol knew that would never abandon her.

It was all returning to her now.

Control… Freedom… She can open her eyes now. The invisible chains released and broke, the locks unlocked, and the suffocation lifted with a lungful of air. Everything seemed to flow back… And then,

She woke up.

* * *

Author's Note: Been a long time, eh? Sorry about being inactive for some time. I've been busy lately, school and all. Well, thanks for reading this chapter and please leave a review if you want to.

Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership over the video game Skullgirls.


	2. Behind a Veil: An Empty Calmness

**Behind a Veil: An Empty Calmness**

_A Forgotten Memory_

_A bright light is all there is. A shadowed face hovered above her. There was a cold numbness that encompassed her skin, coldest at spots where the wires entered her flesh._

_Her voice shivers and begs to sob, but it only becomes as small as a hush… _

_"Where does the end of pain lie?" She whispered with what she thought were the last breaths of her life._

_Silver glinted, the shine of the object grazed her eye—a scalpel, brandished by a shadowed hand._

_"Simple," A female voice said "Where it hurts the most."_

* * *

Carol awakened with her eyes still closed. She took a good breath and a fresh breeze of fulfilling air travelled into her, signifying that she was fully conscious, and finally, in control. Thank the Gods above. It was just a nightmare, another nightmare... another calling from the long gone. This time, it was louder, like the nightmare further deformed itself into something much more horrid: an omen that was a harbinger of more suffering.

She didn't accept that and there was no way she could. Carol reminded herself that all the suffering was over, that it was now barred behind a metal door in her head. But sometimes, when she slept, something would tap, knock, and pound at the iron, accompanied by a muffled faint scream—her own scream, a mutilated version of her voice, which amplified the pain and anger—escaping from behind the door, begging for release. Whenever the nightmare arrives, the pounding stops, the scream silences, the door opens, and the blackness pulls her into its embrace.

What was long-gone still remained there in her sleep, behind that vault, like a damned ghost that slumbered in the abysmal ends of her past despair. It was a reaper, a scar, an old acquaintance that visited so that his name wouldn't be forgotten… That's what it was, but when it came, it was a sharp rusting blade with a jagged razor-edge that cut into her peace and violently released what Carol had sealed on the other side of that door: the fear, the despair, and Painwheel.

Apart from the other pieces of her past that manifested in the metal that flowed in her veins and that rested in her cello case, this was the only haunting memento, the only shred of her past that scared her to no end. It was the same feeling during those painful days—trapped, confused, lost, possessed, and forced to fight.

The darkness, the paralyzing chains and locks, and the endless suffocation in a realm of void and silence… It was Carol's taste of Hell. Damn the Trinity if she were to spiral-down once more into such painful inferno and mind-numbing insanity. Never again would she return to a downfall, a fear, a suffering that would've made her very much happy to lose her life if she had lost her bloody struggle.

Although the nightmare began with the same person, it seemed to always end with a different one. It was always Carol who would be pulled into that despairing realm, but it was always Filia who opened the door to pull Carol out of the abyss. When the door opens, there was Filia and there was light, the same light that now surrounded the walls of her eyelids. It was a hot feeling that tickled and burned just a bit for her to feel it through her eyes. Sunlight. Yes, it was sunlight.

Carol's awakening had been touched by sunlight, the sunlight that she wanted to be free to admire and to idle under during the last Skull Girl incident. Though it was only a few days after her miraculous release from the restraints of the ASG Labs, she was getting used to the sun's fiery caress still, for being in the shadow for too long had numbed her senses and turned what was now a mere ray of solar light into a pleasant luxury.

She opens her eyes, and there it was. A great sky devoid of all clouds, the dominion in which the doves that perched on Canopy Keep soared through, and the deep color that was the color of Carol's freedom; it was all above her, an opening through the blanket of leaves of the maple tree Carol had rested under for shade. She was about to admire such view but then an interruption pierced her ears.

Carol turned her head as she covered her ears, realizing what really woke her. A loud booming sound of car horns and grumpy old men giving each other rallies of marital and personal insults. By the Trinity, for a silent neighborhood housing some retired veterans, they still seemed to be at war to the very end. Their grizzled, grumpy voices that once shouted orders from across the battlefield as men left-and-right died to artillery and gunfire rudely interrupted the silent calm of Maplecrest.

The two cars, one pickup truck and a van, and their busy schedules that need not be interrupted by a fist-fight protected the two old men from reminiscing their old days of service and limited them to exchanges of raging car horns and offensive hand gestures.

"Your wife can't cook worth a damn!" Came a voice of an ancient hillbilly inside the pickup truck.

"Bah! She cleans better than your messy hag! It's no wonder why there's muck all over your furniture!" Was the reply from another old veteran voice with an accent that reflected refinement.

They went on and on, until Carol couldn't understand what they would say. She wondered for a moment that if they were to fight again, would they be as strong as they used to be or would their long absence in combat finally show them how much they wore down? She thought the latter was more probable, but time went on and they only dared to step out their vehicles, not exiting them. This petty argument was more annoying than the sunlight that was heat to her skin, but still, to see a sight such as this, it reminded her well that she was here in the outside world filled with mysteries, comedies, and average life—away from what was long gone.

The fighting stopped and one car moved after another, with their insults trailing off with the dust and smoke of the exhaust. Carol never really knew what those old blokes were fighting over for, but she was glad that was done. She looked around and only then realized the clattering of a thousand drying leaves to the gentle tide of the wind and the silhouetting branches above her that danced a slow bob to the same tide.

The streets were empty for now save for the scattered autumn leaves that took flight along with the current wind. Autumn was beginning, and the leaves that were now moving along the cement were but the droplets of what would be the flood of browning leaves during mid-Fall.

For a moment, there was a kind of quiet that was made out of sound, the sound that was the soft lulling idleness of nature. It didn't try to show any beauty, but Carol took another lungful of the fresh air and relaxed as she listened to this certain kind of quiet, as if there was something special to the soft clattering of the leaves, the refreshing air of the wind, and the sunlight which was beginning to soothe her rather than irritate her.

With the arguing old veterans gone, the leaves, the branches, the sunlight, and the wind let another feeling urged Carol to slip back into slumber. It was what she found out to be the beauty hidden in this quiet atmosphere all along. It was peace.

There was a window of light above her, a window with moving walls of leaves. It peered towards the cloudless ultramarine heaven above, the same window that she had opened her eyes to.

A shade was veiling her from the sun a while ago, but now there was a shaft of sunlight reaching down towards where she had rested, giving a faint glow to the drying grass. If the Trinity itself was to descend from the sky, this might be the spot where they would come and unleash their awe manifested in a golden beam that pinnacled towards the heavens. Carol thought how long she had slept for the sun to finally move in and peek down upon her through a leafy window.

The searing glow of the sunlight lessened as Carol's eyes naturally adjusted. She looked up to that very window and saw a sole branch that was like a crooked windowsill to this portal of light. She smiled a small smile. How could she forget? Filia had once rested on that branch, her once blonde hair hanging down, her arms crossed behind her head, her body resting on the tree's ancient arm, and her eyes gazing towards the cloudless blue sky with much innocence. It was the first time Carol ever saw her.

* * *

"Hey!" a little Carol said to a strange girl stared towards the blue canvas above her with eyes that dared to close.

Carol was clothed in a small dirty-white dress that had a small skirt for the occasion of picking flowers that grew near the tree, but then for the first time, she had noticed a girl with a similar dress with a bluish color resting on a branch. All along as Carol visited this tree daily, this girl would be just above her. They never noticed each other, until now.

Though her voice was loud and shrill, the girl on the branch did nothing, only to annoy the curious little brown-haired girl below her. Carol waited for an answer. Frustration was about to get the best of her until the girl's weak response finally arrived.

"What?" She said, like a whisper that edged Carol's earshot.

The frustration faded as Carol received her answer. "What are you doing up there?" Carol said, a childish curiosity rising.

"Wondering." The girl said, the only word to have escaped her trance.

"Wondering over what?" Carol rested her back on the tree's trunk, her head still looking up towards the strange girl.

"The sky." She said. "It looks nice up there. A bird can fly and no one can stop it from flying."

Carol was silent for she had no response. She didn't understand what the girl meant. Who in the kingdom would even wonder about it? "I know that. Why are you even thinking about that?"

"Because a person can't fly but someone can stop him from flying." The girl said, continuing to gaze off into the sky.

Carol giggled. "I don't know what that's supposed to mean." She said. "You should really stop staring into the sky, or it might stare back to you, and that's scary."

"What? The sky would grow eyes?" The girl's voice finally emerged slightly louder with a smile evident through the tone. "And it would stare at me and tell me to stop staring at it?"

Carol smiled. "Maybe and that would be scarier, don't you think?" She said. "Say, what's your name?" Carol asked, realizing that they had talked without knowing each other.

The girl averted her gaze, pulling her away from her little trance. As she shifted into a sitting position she said "Filia. How about yours?"

"I'm Carol. Nice to meet you." Carol took a good look at her. It occurred to her that she had never seen Filia in Maplecrest before. Perhaps she must've moved here not long ago.

She looked almost as innocent as Carol was. Blue irises, long blonde hair, and lips that could do the most condescending smirk was what Carol saw, and what Filia saw was a little girl with hazelnut irises, brown hair, and the most innocent smile.

It was the first time their eyes made contact. Filia smiled at her, and Carol smiled back. From there on, a friendship bloomed.

It was a fleeting memory. She couldn't remember much of the days before her disfiguration. Some memories were taken away and never found again, and others came back but were never as true as they were. So much has changed, she had realized, and it almost felt like that the life she had now was something new, not something recovered. It was unfair. It wasn't fair that her monstrous transformation had taken away the brightest of her memories, similar to how the blackened veins filled with Gae Bolga had marred the whiteness of her skin. It wasn't fair that her change hadn't spared her good memories but only left the dark ones. It would never be the same, but that no longer mattered.

She looked more of a monster now, she thought. An experimental subject dressed in a schoolgirl's uniform was how she looked like to many. What was once a healthy network of veins now bulged and travelled under her skin like black rivers, what were once pretty hazelnut-brown irises were now colored a bright red, and a face that was once had a flawless smile was now scarred with an "X" to truly mark her as an ASG subject. She was no longer human and that was a fact she was well aware of. Many feared her knowing that she was far different from a normal human—even her own classmates and as far as her own parents .They all began to treat her differently.

So much has changed about her. It was hard for her not to see herself as a disfigured soul. But here she was, just a while ago picking flowers, sleeping under a maple tree, and now admiring the orange beauty of autumn. She reminded herself—the suffering was over.

* * *

A plastic ceiling fan spins above them.

"She's taking forever," said Samson, his deep gritty voice hinting some impatience. "Are you sure she didn't forget to go here?" He (Samson didn't prefer being called as an "it") was Filia's biological parasite, who was always attached to her head as usual, creating a dark violet mimic of what was once golden blonde hair. His yellowish eyes were parallel to Filia's ears and his mouth jutted with large curved teeth, making what seemed like the world's most exotic headband. He was, in a simple way, a talking second face.

He had made his usually hard tendrils into sloppy threads, resembling hair so that Filia can rest her back without the discomfort of Samson's natural stiffness.

Filia, who laid herself down on a couch, was reading a book with wide-eyes, intrigued by what she was reading. She spared Samson little attention. "I'm pretty sure she hasn't." She said. "Carol must've slept under the tree again."

Her house was small, well, it wasn't particularly a house, but it was more of an apartment room with white walls, white light, a sustaining kitchen, one bedroom, a bathroom, and simple furniture. It was enough for Filia to call it home, even though it wasn't particularly her home.

"Your friend really likes to doze-off doesn't she?" Samson said "She's picking flowers here and there and then suddenly she just rests down a tree and goes to sleep, completely forgetting her schedule."

Filia smiled and flipped a page on her book. "What can you do? She loves nature, Samson."

Samson was always annoyed by Carol's love for nature, particularly because she would place flowers on him whenever he was asleep to decorate Filia's 'hair'. He never liked having accessories placed on him because 1.) He wasn't hair, and 2.) He has disdainful feelings for 'girly' stuff which Filia and Carol would never understand.

"Can't we go check on her and see if a branch fell on her head and slipped her into a coma?" Samson said.

She sighed. "Just wait for her Samson. She's always been here when she says she will."

"But then she always comes late." He said. "Why can't she just tell us she'll arrive an hour _after_ the time she'll be here?"

Filia had no response for that. It was just how Carol was anyway and Samson wouldn't understand that as much as Filia did. She drowned her attention towards Samson with her attention towards her book. Unfortunately, Samson was used to such countermeasures.

Noticing that Filia extinguished her focus over the conversation because she had no answer for his question, Samson slipped one tendril out Filia's back and took her book away. He raised it up out of Filia's arm's-reach. It now hung above her, wrapped in one of Samson's smaller tendrils.

"Hey!" Filia said as she did futile attempts to grab the book away from Samson's grasp. "Give it back!" She eventually gave up when Samson had stretched it far out of her reach and to the back of her head.

Samson took a glance at the book. "What are you reading anyway?" He narrowed his eyes and read one paragraph. "What in the Trinity is this supposed to mean?" He had great difficulty reading. Samson had always thought that the human language was a hard language to read, but that didn't stop him from reading.

"Is this a book about romance again?"He said. "Why can't you read something fun like 'The Reign of Blades'?"

"I'd rather not right now."Filia said. "I'm not into blood and lust for power."

"That's what makes it fun." Samson said. "This book's boring. Tell me when you get to the part with guns." He then placed the book back on Filia's stomach and returned his tendril to the mass of fake hair.

There was silence and Filia opened her book once again. Fortunately, Samson was kind enough to drop the book opened to the page where he had interrupted Filia. Minutes passed and Samson decided to keep his impatience to himself.

The ticking of a clock... It was the only sound in the room, faint yet heard. Filia's eyes travel out of reading the book then upward to look at the clock. The short arm was edging towards 6 PM, with the long arm nearing the 12th mark. Now did she notice that time was dragging on. For her and Samson, time mattered differently for them than it would be for Carol and almost anyone else. The machine continued to tick and the sound didn't go unnoticed in Filia's ears.

"Samson" Filia said to break the momentary quiet. "When will we tell her?"

"Tell her what?" He said. "Tell her that you got a bad taste in book genres?"

She smiled a bit. Filia had this unnatural tolerance for Samson's comments. "No no, not that… About the Skull Heart."

Samson went stiff for a second and thought of what to say. "I don't know, kid." He really had no opinion over when. All he knew is that if Filia went down, he will have to do so as well. The Skull's power corrupts all those who are biologically attached to the Skull Girl.

Thoughts were racing in her head, taking away her focus and mood to read. Filia laid her book down. "I'm just afraid… She'll hate me for not telling her."

"We don't know yet, but at least you haven't said anything about it so you won't have to lie your way out." Samson said.

She would hate lying to Carol, her only friend. Samson assured Filia that there was nothing to worry about because Carol didn't ask anything for Filia to lie through. But Filia wondered still, 'Can a person lie without saying anything?' She wanted to ask Samson, but she wouldn't want to hear an answer.

The doorbell rang a momentary buzz. "Finally!" Samson said, jumping away from their serious topic. "Where are we going to go this time?" When it wasn't time to fight, Samson had an interest for seeing the sights of the kingdom, eating, scaring people on the street, and scaring people Filia had happened to talk to.

"Coming!" Filia said with a sing-song tone, taking her book and resting it on the cushion before standing up.

She opened her door with a smile. Filia's mouth went agape, but quickly tightened. Samson went stiff and pointed his tendrils towards the visitor. It wasn't Carol. It was an all too familiar nun.

Her eyes were closed and she stood upright like a statue. Before Filia or Samson could've reacted, the nun opened her eyes to Filia, a smile on her face.

"You have two more weeks, child." Double said, before she morbidly split herself into two to evade Samson's bladed tendril that went straight for her chest.

* * *

Author's Note: And so it begins...

Leave a review if you want to, fave or follow if it suits you, and thanks for reading this chapter. See you on the next one.


	3. Behind a Veil: Anathema and Solace

**Behind a Veil: Anathema and Solace**

_Her Introduction_

_She was splitting in half to reveal the creature beyond. It was like an inner tongue grotesquely emerging from a fanged mouth that was her whole body. There she now stood. Large pale hands underneath her were crawling to the floor, parts of extra organs were pulsating on top of the palms, and a mass of skin and muscle was supporting a slime-covered mountain of pale limbs and fresh organs. Vapors of blood had steamed out of what were large intestine-like tubes that snaked around her, and a massive mouth with tusk-like teeth had merged with her main body._

_On the central pillar of moving flesh, a single eye stared out down to the brave, yet little, girl._

_She looked in beholding and in horror. It was a beast, a living tower of repulsiveness and disgust. "What are you?" She said in babbles._

_The beast laughed, her sickly cackles echoing through the marble halls of the silent cathedral._

"_What you can never hide from and never destroy. I am what many fear and what many tried to silence. I am what many assume to be far away but yet hiding just an inch away. What many have attempted to kill, but have died in doing so, and what many have tried to delay but had met a brutal inevitability. I become my prettiest body by day and my most repulsive form by night. They call me a shape-shifter, a doppelganger, a deceiver, but behind this flayed, ever-changing skin, there lies an abomination in its final form."_

_"I am the face of the liar and ignorant man's bane, child, for I am what rest behind a fake lithesome shell of flesh."_

_She nears the girl, a great shadow looming over her face. Fear clutched the little one and the creature's great mouth stretched wide open. A large grunt and a quick movement then a violet bladed limb slashes the beast away. The girl's fear dies out and the adrenaline surges a flame in her. _

_The monster is pushed back. She bellows and laughs again._

_"There is no escaping from me."_

* * *

The tendril took the hardness of iron and the sharpness that was of a well-made arrowhead. If it had hit the creature, it would have impaled her and pin her to the wall.

Samson's ability to constrict all his thread-like fibers, and connect and separate together at will became a very effective way of combat and maneuver, and—when in unison with Filia's acquired experience in hand-to-hand combat—made this symbiotic duo a deadly force in fighting, both up-close and at a range. If not for Samson's natural means of defense, Filia wouldn't have the great speed and power advantage to what would be otherwise a hopeless battle for a trained soldier, or worse , an ordinary schoolgirl.

The needle-like tip of Samson's petrified limb narrowly missed Double. It had launched into empty air and stopped before it could hit the wall behind the malformed nun, who was now violently split in two with a gaping tunnel at her centre walled with flesh, limbs, and other organs compressed inside. Filia had a glimpse of Double's true form, and in that second of a sight, she met one of the doppelganger's true eyes.

Chilling, glaring, and black to its core, they peeked out of the crevice of one fold of flesh and looked at Filia's glowing crimson orbs. Wide open were the spheres of void, emotions nowhere to be found, and ever staring. But then lids move, feeling the tiny weight of Filia's glance. It needed a barring grin and the reflection of prey on her abysmal eyes to complete the picture of her facial expression.

Long arms began to emerge from the insides of the fleshy gap. They were writhing out from the flesh that walled the expanding hole, grasping the blade-arm with many hands from all sides. Double grunted as she bore the pain of gripping onto the sharpened threads that cut through the skin of her palms.

Samson's eyes widened as soon as Filia's did "What the…" He said along with Filia's gasp. Double's hands had taken Samson's tendril, and before the parasite could have reacted, a great pull from the pale fists had given impetus to Double's body. The force caused the entire mass of the split shape-shifter to fling towards Filia. Samson underestimated her weight and threshold for pain, and so he was unable to counterbalance the pull or to quickly withdraw the tendril. This caused both him and Filia to be pushed back with a great slam.

They were pushed towards their room. Filia landed on the ground, her back on the floor. Thankfully, Samson assisted her back on her feet using his tendrils as supporters. Filia got up to the sight of Double, who was now at the doorway, complete and whole as the most unsuspecting nun. As she returned Filia's sight with closed eyes, she took a step in and closed the door without being quick.

Filia only glared at Double for the time being. Samson expressed his own sort of glare with readied bladed limbs—two of his largest—now studded with organic blades that were curved like scythes and that extended out from of both Filia's sides. They began to encircle in place. The tips were pointed straight towards approximations of what could be Double's vital parts. Filia remained in a compact combat stance which prepared her for any move that required quick reaction or swift offense. Double stood unfazed, two hands flat on each other's palms, as if praying to the damned Trinity.

"I do not wish to fight right now, child." Double said in three voices at the same time. It is her true voice, a voice that wasn't human or alien, but a non-monotonous voice that was created by resonations inside her grotesque fleshy core. It was a cacophonous sound if heard from a distance, but a voice nonetheless when heard from around the source itself. It was a voice that mimicked three different people every time it would begin a new sentence. It was Double's voice in a tone that made no attempt to deceive anyone, as it was a voice that hid nothing and revealed everything—the voice of a true doppelganger, a cursed doppelganger that will always take form of someone else, in body and in sound, to survive in a world that despised abominations and shape-shifters.

"Really, now?" Filia said with eyes focused on the centre of Double. It is where her true form always emerged whenever she transformed. Filia would have a second to either take offense and hit Double's core or defend herself from the varying means of offense Double could do with her bizarre 'body'.

Double was an unpredictable foe, and Filia knew that well, for she battled the doppelganger once in the halls Grand Cathedral of The Trinity. But even so after their fight with Filia victorious, Double still had no recognizable pattern to the girl or to Samson. She had the ability to shape-shift to any person who had necessary combat abilities that a situation would need at any moment, which was, perhaps, her most useful method of combat. She can also turn into any winged animal and fly, become a small creature to escape a fatal blow, or she can simply use her limbs from her true form to attack her adversary.

If Samson was Filia's edge in a fight, he would be equaled by Double's numerous and random ways of attack and evasion. That is why Filia and Samson cannot let their guard down for it might mean a quick defeat. They were a bit less worried though. They've reminded themselves that they've defeated Double once, and so, they proved that they were not equal to this mutilated form of life in combat, but much greater.

But a doubt fueled their worries, and it edged Filia to keep her guard up. If they were to fight now, would they be as strong as they used to be or would the long absence in fighting weaken them now?

"Oh man… It's so easy to trust _someone or something_ that tried to kill you, right, kid?" Samson said, making an unnoticeable smile. "Look, nun or freak or whatever, I've been itching for a fight, and if you don't give us one good reason why you're here, then I won't have to think twice."

Double took a step forward without a word. Her movement caused Samson and Filia to reflex as to ready for a strike, but then their stances died down as Double sauntered pass them. As she walked the nearest table, she took something out of the pocket of her robes and placed what seemed to be a strange circular object on the coffee table near the couch.

"What in Canopy is that?" Samson said. He took caution, his tendrils still pointed at the disguised beast like spears.

"A special machine designed by my mistresses. Its sound can only be heard by those who are intended to be given the message to." Double said. One delicate finger pressed a button that was situated on the front of the device.

"This better not be a trick, shape-shifter" Filia said, looking at the brass, yet almost golden, luster of this strange object. "I had enough of them."

"Do not worry, child, The Trinity wouldn't permit me to badly hurt you." Double said, without looking at the girl.

Samson let out a sound of 'Hmph'. "No one permits me from badly hurting you..." He muttered, intentionally loud enough for Double to hear. She had ignored it fortunately, as to avoid unneeded argument or fighting.

The object glowed and vibrated in place. Its luster grew into lights that surrounded the brass of the object. Filia stared at the object, apparently intrigued by what she was seeing.

"_Hello? Heeeellloooooo?_" A young female voice came from the device, amazingly as clear as normal voice. No other electronic speaker in the kingdom would have produced a sound as enhanced as this strange machine. "_Aeon is this thing on?"_

"_Yeah it is_" was a distant reply from another female voice, slightly less shriller than the first one. "_It's recording now._"

Samson's tendrils have finally softened down. "Is this a joke?" Samson said for only Filia to hear.

"Shh…" Filia hushed him. "Just listen…"

"_Heeeyyy! So, um, how do I start? Well, first off, my name's Venus, you know, one of the goddesses in the Trinity and all that, the most beautiful of them all" _She giggled.

"_Don't listen to her! She's just trying make a good first impression!" _The distant voice said. For deities, Filia thought, they didn't seem to try to be too awe-inspiring or superior…

"_Shut up, Aeon, I'm going to enlighten our newest Skull Girl right now." _

"_Enlightening her doesn't mean telling her you're the most gorgeous being in space or whatever. Just tell her all the important details!"_ Aeon said.

"_I was going to but you keep interrupting me! " _A sigh accompanied with distant giggling was heard. "_By me and my two other relatives, she's always butting in and being jealous." _Venus said _"Ehem... So, where was I? Oh yes, so uh, hey there Filia! It's nice to have you in the eternal cycle of death and destruction!" _

"Psht… For divines, they sound like brats…" Samson muttered only to be shushed again by Filia.

"_I'm not really a goddess who likes to go all 'Ooooo, lightning, earthquakes, obey me, give me tribute and sacrifices bla bla bla' It just sounds boring and off-character, and I really don't like being too wordy. So here I am, talking to you like I would if I were an everyday mortal. You know, mortal speech interests me, really, they don't need a lot of words and they get the idea in your head." _She said. _"But hey, at least I sound friendly, right? Unlike Double here, alwaaaays trying to sound like Mother."_

"Forgi-" Double was interrupted.

"_Oph! No need for forgiveness, it's alright if you want to talk like mom, and besides, your voice doesn't match up to the way me and Aeon talk, so save your breath." _Venus said, apparently prepared for what Double was about to say. With those words, Double fell silent.

"_Now, as our cute little minion Double here has told you, you've got two weeks left before mom's mercy runs out, so yeah, as she's said, you've got to make the most out of it before you end up like Marie and all those before her."_

The reminder of Marie was a little paper note written with regret in Filia. She was only a little girl blinded by revenge, so strong was her passion for justice that she fought the Skull's influence just so that she would be sane enough to fulfill her wish.

Perhaps Filia granted her a favor by releasing her from the corruption that was the Skull Heart. If not for her intervention, Marie might have begun to hurt does who were not involved in her blind revenge against the Medici Mafia. Still, the guilt lingered in Filia. Maybe if Marie thanked her with her dying breath, that unnecessary guilt right now wouldn't exist.

"Friendly… but still evil." Samson continued to mutter. Filia sharply pulled a thread of Samson, which caused his tongue to jut out. "Okay okay, I'll stop, jeez!"

"_You know that, of course, but we just want you to know a few other things that you may want to take note of. Number one: you're being watched, by us and someone else. " _Filia raised an eyebrow. A sense of fear and worry shook her head. Something wasn't going to be right and Filia did not know what that will be.

"_We think it's the ASG Labs, and we can't track them down because we aren't so omnipresent when they cover themselves in amplified ASG waves that disrupt our power. Damn mortals, finding ways to repel our divine powers, little do they know that same power will make this world go 'poof'." _She laughed for a moment, before continuing on. "_Anyway, Double's going to guard over you from now on, in secret so nobody knows that you're being protected." _

Samson was on the verge of yelling 'WHAT?!' but Filia had already pulled a thread to keep him check. Samson's yell subsided to a dying wheeze of air. Filia gave Double a quick glance. She was quiet with her eyes closed and her hands still flat on each other as to pray.

"_Yeah yeah, I know it's going to be a bit uncomfortable with one of our most fetid creations to watch over you, but hey, she'll keep you safe. Trust me, you'll find it harder to fight ASGs when mom's little artifact is inside you, so Double will prove to be a bodyguard."_

"_Just understand that mom doesn't want any 'unworthy' people to get a hold of the Skull so we have to do this whether you like it or not, and besides, we're keeping you safe until your doom. That's number two."_

"_And number three: Double was the one who paid your rent. You were about to get an eviction notice so we had to act or you'll be out there in the streets, exposed to everyone and vulnerable to those 'guys'. You can thank us later." _

"We won't…" Samson said. It was thankfully a short comment for Filia to ignore, if not, then Filia would have pulled a fistful of his threads.

"_And lastly, number four: It's not really something that you need to know, but something I just wanted to ask personally, because it gets boring watching over this world and watching over you for the longest period of time while Aeon's busy doing other Trinity duties. I've began to notice some other stuff going on with you, and as a goddess, I have the right to curiosity as well as any mortal would. When are you going to tell her?"_

Filia froze in place, eyes widened. Then she subsided in a posture hinting uncertainty. She did not know.

"_I mean, she's your bestest-best friend right? And maybe your only friend because I don't see you two hang out with anyone else. Don't you think she deserves to know that you're doing this for her? Well, I'm not a mortal, but you can hide it as long as you like but one day she'll know. That's how the truth goes anyway." _Venus said through the machine. For a goddess, she seemed quite verbose in mortal feelings, but that might have still been something she looked down upon.

"_I feel sorry for you, kiddo, but I'm just the goddess of space and my destiny's to destroy this world so the least I can do is agree with mom. No wish can be completely selfless, that's why no one can fool the Skull Heart. So yeah, you get consequences just like every other Skull Girl, but you get some time because you tried to be selfless, so make the most of these last days, just like mom said. "_

"_So uh, that's about it! The Skull will take you by the end of the second week in a slow manner. It'll take a whole day before you completely succumb, that is if you don't try to resist it like how Marie did for such a long time. Ugh... She was quiet a pain, really."_

"_I don't suggest resisting. It's going to be quite painful fighting our powers growing inside you. Don't worry though, the Skull will take you anyway no matter how strong you may be. So um... Good luck! And good luck with Cazie, was it? Carrie? Uh… Carol! Yeah, right, Carol! I'll be watching, and please, don't mind Double, she won't try to really hurt you unless I say so; she really is quite obedient. Farewell!"_ There was silence which was finally the queue for Samson to speak another of his impatient or complaining remarks without getting punished, but then Venus's voice was once again heard through the device.

"_Hey, uh, Aeon, is it done recording?"_

"_No, just wait… This thing takes time." _Aeon said.

Venus sighed. _"You got an hourglass on your torso and a snake-parasite thing wrapped around it that controls time, and plus, you're the goddess of time. Why can't you speed this thing up?"_

"_Because Khronos and I don't want to waste energy on speeding up a divine microphone, now can you just wait?"_

"_Ugh… fine…" _Venus said. The silence continued and everyone else in the room listened as Venus hummed tune. The humming became words then words morphed into lyrics. She began to sing a song. _"Da da da… Why so down tonight? La la la la… Let's just lie awake… Doo doo roo roo… Cause baby you got you and me…" _

"_They can hear you."_

"_No problem with that. Now she knows I'm a great singer."_

"_Oh shut up… There! Finally…" _The voices began to fade. _"Really, why can't mom just…"_ Were the last words that were heard from the device.

The strange machine's glow died down and its normal luster returned. Double took the object with a bleeding hand and pocketed it once again without much haste. Filia fell on the couch with the weight of her new spawned annoyances and contemplations bringing her down.

"And I was hoping for a fight…" Samson said. He raised one small tendril and pointed it towards Double, like how a normal accusative finger would. "You'd best leave now, whatever you are, because we don't like your company."

"If not for my mistresses whim's, I would say the same." Double said. "It is obvious that they couldn't trust you in handling the Skull Heart."

"Bah, they're just afraid that it might end up with the ASG or the Medicis." Samson said. "We can handle ourselves and your..."

The clock continued to tick as Double and Samson conversed. The short arm was already pointed at the 6th mark and it had moved once exactly when Filia looked at it. Time was passing. She had noticed it again. Two weeks and it feels like the time limit was enough to asphyxiate her to submission. How was she going to do this? How was she going to keep up? Will she even explain this to Carol? Will she ever find out who she really was before Samson had wiped out her memory as a side-effect of his parasitism? She didn't feel like she could answer all these questions in two week's time...

"Hey! You're phasing out, kid!" Samson said, prickling a tendril on her hip. Filia slightly jumped awake.

"S-Sorry, I was just thinking…" Filia said as she held her right temple with one hand. She caught the sight of Double again, who still stood there like a sculpture or a sentinel. It placed an uneasy awkwardness in Filia. The same thing or person attempted to kill her, and now there it was, tasked to guard Filia. She was standing, right in front of the very girl she once tried to consume.

"Um… So… Any personal ideas on who's after me?" Filia said.

Double shook her head. "Mortals have ways of hiding themselves from my mistresses' powers. It is entertaining to think that they've managed to create effective ways to avoid them." That and ways to _try to _destroy them. The notion caused the thought of Carol to expand in Filia's train of thinking. It came to her attention that Carol was once Painwheel, a weapon of the ASG Labs, tasked to eliminate or repel the Skull Girl at all costs. It took a toll on Carol, and the price was to become the likeness of the very monster that she was forced to hunt.

"Great, so we got the Skull Heart just waiting to explode and a guy or a bunch of guys who are after us." Samson said. "We're going to have some trouble, and that's alright, because I like trouble."

"Don't be foolish, parasite. You and your host are still weak in this form. You won't stand a chance fighting the full-force of the ASGs." Double now spoke in an alto normal tone that manifested a contemplative nun's voice; it was the voice deceived a people and what the nun she had took form of would've possibly sounded like if she were not a monster. It made Filia and Samson more or less comfortable with talking to the disguised abomination.

"Hah! Weak? We'll see about that." Samson said, brutish as he was. "We've beaten two ASGs, so don't underestimate me and the kid."

Double was beginning to snap a distasteful remark back at Samson, but then she had to morph into something quick. The doorbell was ringing once again, a single buzz as to mark the visitor's patience.

Filia stood up to answer the door. "Be there right in a sec!" She said. As she approached the door, she took a glance behind her. There was a black cat sitting at the floor. It was looking at her, green eyes to complete its small whiskered grin.

Her glance quickly became a glare, which maybe fueled the delight or annoyance of the cat that was Double. She turned her head and placed her attention back to the door. Hopefully, Double will cooperate with her—at least, for now.

The thought of Double escaped Filia's mind. She turns the knob; the door opens. Samson becomes limp, and Filia makes a smile, now meeting another, more softer smile. Flowers rest in her beige sling-bag, their heads lazily peeking out of the buttoned cover and a fresh aroma of a leaf-scented breeze surrounded her. Lithesome but not old, scarred but no longer hurt, disfigured but not destroyed. She was Carol, Filia's only friend.

* * *

Author's Note: This one took some time, had to do some research and think this one out. I've been planning for an awesome show-down but I'll have to save that one for later. A loooooot of people are going to get involved soon, can't say who without spoiling it. Oh and, some legal stuff, I do not claim ownership over the song "In a Moment's Time".

So thanks for reading this one, do what you want, a review will be much appreciated, and see ya in the next chapter.


	4. Behind a Veil: An Empire of Fools

**Behind the Veil: An Empire of Fools**

_Hidden_

_Her dressed body is leaned down, her hands on her laps, and her head positioned closely to the small crevice of the hardwood door._

_There was a man wearing a suit sitting on the chair facing her father, who was on the opposite chair. The orange light of a lamp in the room was sufficient for it to give a shine to the man's face and a luster to his oiled golden-blonde hair_

_The man is reclined, relaxed and comfortable on the cushioned chair, his two own arms resting on the arms of his seat like the armored lord sitting on a throne illustrated sharply on an oil painting behind him, and his legs are crossed over each other. Like most of the people her father dealt with, he is wearing a two-piece suit of a high brand—this one's fabric was colored a fine maroon—but unlike those common day-to-day people in the household, there was a something that set him from them all: there was a gold scepter with a pointed edge resting on his lap. On the head of this scepter, was a flawless gem finely-cut into a designer's jewel; it was glowing with a ghostly green that contests the light of the room lamp that was lit on the small table beside his chair._

_Her father was on the edge of his seat speaking, but she could not understand his words nor see the expression on his face as his voice was lowered down... _

_As he spoke and as the other listened, the man raised his right hand to his lips and tilted his head for it to rest there. He nods as his father went on and on, his blonde eyebrows rising at some points, bringing a light movement to his chiseled features. His sky-blue irises never leave the attentive eye-contact between him and his father._

_He is young, she thought, and he looked… almost like someone she knew. If his hair was a copper brown then he would look… just like the very person he was talking to: her father._

_A touch arrives to her shoulder and the crevice wherein she looked through faded into blackness as the hardwood door closed. The little girl turns and stands still, mouth agape but silent. There were familiar slender thighs, but then she looks up, and there was the face of the woman before her. The girl recognizes her; she is a good friend of her parents but rarely seen in the house. If almost all the male acquaintances of her family wore suits, all the female ones wore fashions the likes of opera singers, and this woman was no exception._

"_Who is papa talking to?" The girl said. "Why does he look like him?"_

_The woman kneels with one leg; she pulls back a stray strand of her white hair. They look at each other, the girl's expression unmoving, and the woman's yellow cores of her eyes going here and there until they finally met with the little girl's sight._

"_Dear…" She said. "Some things are best left unspoken. Time will come and you will know."_

"_But I want to know now. Why not now?"_

_The woman inclines her head down, but her look does not leave._

"_If the truth was an ugly one, would you still want to know it?"_

_The little girl did not answer, and she only looked down, her blank expression now broken with half-closed eyes that strayed to her side. She spoke again. "Why do they keep hiding things from me? What does papa want me not to know?"_

_The woman stands up once more, her left hand leaving the girl's shoulder but her sight still at the little one. "It keeps you happy for a while…. at least, until you're ready to accept what we really are."_

_Her other arm flickers for split-second. A hologram. But the little girl failed to see it, as her head was bowed down for her to wipe her tearing eyes._

* * *

Wrinkled fingers drum an incessant beat on a gilded desk surface. The taps make the faintest sound throughout the unlit room that was his office. The once fair-complexioned skin of his fingers now a darker shade brought about by age.

He is an old man wearing a beige suit without a tie, his undershirt a dark-green, his posture hunched forward, and the backrest of his throne-like chair a few inches taller than his upper body. His bony, wrinkled head rests on his right hand, and between the middle and index fingers, stuck a lit cigar, smoking and pointing downward towards the surface of his golden desk. The left hand drummed and drummed, creating the only sound in his large, _very_ _large_, office.

The room can be entered through a gated elevator as big as the wall, and when its large doors open, a grand sight of an _office_ is seen. The four walls are vertical, but then arch as they reach their peak, meeting to create a golden ceiling. The floors are checkered black and white, well-polished to reflect the luster above, and from the elevator, was a white fur carpet that reached towards the suited old man's big, lavish desk. To the sides, left and right, were live decorative plants, and lined up on these walls were meter-sized artistic portraits of his important relatives—some old, others decently young, some with condescending expressions, and others with blank faces. On the bottom of every frame, were their individual names etched in elegant, quill-written cursive on an oval brass; their first names vary, but the surnames are of course, all the same: 'de Medici'

At the very end of this room, is a glass window, its cylindrical steel frame showing and its area almost taking up the whole wall. At its top corners, were spiraling designs of golden winds, and through the clear glass, was a view of the heart of New Meridian. Signs, advertisements, windows, were all lighted up with bright electric colors, giving this office a faint multi-colored glow to counter the shade on his side.

The suit-wearing old man smokes the cigar. He inhales—the tobacco compressed on the tip glowing with a bright fiery scarlet—then slowly exhales through his mouth then out his puckered lips. The smoke flows like an evanescent, ethereal flame that floated through the space of air in front of him. The smoke dies, his cigar falls to the desktop, and he coughs and coughs, wheezes, then coughs once more. The drumming stops, the sound replaced. He places his left fist on his mouth, and used his right to support him by pushing onto the surface of the desk as he rose from his cushioned chair.

The coughs become less intense and they fade as he approached the wall of a window.

He leans forward, supporting himself with his left fist on the glass of the window, and his right hand now inside the right pocket of his also beige slacks. From there, he looks out; his already-wrinkled brows further folding, and his skinny neck contracting as he cleared his throat. For a moment it occurred to him that being aged and old was not an easy living.

"Dahila, what time is it?" His voice is dry yet somehow watery, but clearly ancient that its younger sound would no longer be imaginable.

From the shaded right-hand corner, came a vixen, rather risque sound of a mature woman. "A couple of minutes after six, Lorenzo… My, my, he's a bit late…." Dahila said with a voice capable of purring.

She is not fully revealed. A black silken veil covers the whole foreside of her face, save for the eyeholes, which were thinly cut to show only her irises like golden rhinestones. The rest of her is further hidden into the shadow, yet to emerge.

"I would wait for that informer for a lifetime if I have to…" He coughs again—his head bowing down for a second, and then clears his throat.

"I can see why…" She finally comes out of the dark, showing her full figure. Lithe, revealingly dressed as the skirt of her velvet, dark-violet dress was slit at the sides to reveal her legs, which were covered by white stockings that ended at the thighs. Hanging loosely by her temples, were large silvery strands of hair on each side, both curvedly zigzagging downward like sidewinder snakes. At the topmost, was a felt headwear of the same color of her dress and of a circular shape that fit her scalp; by its left side, were three white feathers of what may be a bird of prey, the largest feather angled diagonally upward, and the smallest downward; they were tightly fastened at the tips together with a bright ruby core.

Her left arm was slender, its hands delicate, completely gloved in thin silk to complement her figure, the right, mechanical: a white rod ending with a drum-loaded shotgun the size of a small child in lieu of a normal hand.

She walks, her stiletto high-heels tapping on the polished floor, stopping as she then stood beside her master and turning to face the same sight as he was now looking out to. Her metal right arm is pointed downward, and her left hand holds the metal joint that was supposed to be her right shoulder.

They stand together without a word. Lorenzo removed his suit and hung it on his back like a cape, then joined his hands together behind him under his suit. They look out to the skyscrapers that contested for height, the bright dynamic neon signs, and the bustling metropolis that was New Meridian. His chin is raised up, his body slightly hunching as it was as straight as it could go, and his neon-shined face shows no expression whatsoever.

_River King Casino. Eye Candy. Club 20. Eliza…._ The signs shine brightly, one on top of the other, of different glowing colors crowning every building, each structure varying in height. Out the window, they were looking, the two of them standing at the center of this electric spotlight.

"Dahila, when you look out this window, what do you see?" Lorenzo said.

For a moment, she thought of something to say. "An empire… Made from our sweat, our blood, their sweat, and their blood… It's beautiful."

"Yes, it is... very much…" A sigh. "But all empires fall, and all beauty can rot, knowing this and knowing the inevitability of it, I cannot stop to admire anymore."

Somehow, Dahila knew that one part of what he said was wrong, but there was no use in arguing with Lorenzo de Medici, don of the Medici Mafia, and the king of the New Meridian underworld. She listened then she asked:

"Why is that?"

The streets below them are congested, with people like ants of all races travelling in all sorts of directions on sidewalks as the cars were to the boulevards. For a moment, Lorenzo looks down and sees them all, people under the slowly dying sunlight.

"Do you fear death, Dahila?" He said.

Before she could have hesitated in an instant answer, she spoke out her doubts. "I don't know, really…"

Lorenzo smiles, his dry lips wrinkling at the sides. "If you did not fear death, you wouldn't be killing those who try to kill you."

Dahila smiles a similar smile, only that it can never be seen, though heard through her voice. "Then that makes us both afraid, doesn't it?"

He nods, and tilts his head, considering what Dahila just asked. "It does, and I'm thankful for that fear, for if I did not have it, I would not be standing here and you would not have your special arm."

"Hm… I agree…"

He reads the signs, again and again, each name crossing by, each name he scans through, and each name bringing sorts of heartwarming and violent memories. The buildings, they reached towards the sky, everyone competing for height, competing for an already finished race. It was Lorenzo's tower, the tower of the Under-God that stands above all, like a great king at the center of a tight crowd of slabs.

"We have become so powerful, so fearsome, and wealthy that I could not bear to see our power fade away in an instant." He leans forward once again, his hands back to where they left a while ago. "What use is our great power if it will only last for a day, a month, or a year?"

"Nothing…" Dahila said. "Hm… You said the same when we were planning the hit on the Life Gem…"

"And the day after we lost it to that… feline thief, Nadia."

"Now you say it again…"

"I say it because I am afraid." He said, and then turned his head to look at Dahila. "No, I say it because I am _terrified_… I've tasted so much power, and I am afraid of death. I've tasted immortality, and I'm no longer afraid, but instead, I've become terrified more than ever. Death will take me, and all this gold, power, and royalty will become ash…" He returns his look to the window. "Death is cruel a thing… Death is death… Death is unchanging… Death is…"

"Time running out, put simply." Dahila said. "Is that what you fear?"

"Yes…" Lorenzo said. "How can I be happy when I know that all I have left are seconds? That all that I've ever done will turn to specks of dust after the clock does its cycle… Do you take a moment to wonder the same question, Dahila?"

She has not moved. "Sometimes, but even with the Life Gem gone, I do as I can still do, live as I can still live."

"Can you say that you're happy?"

"Almost… One more piece is all that's left, and I'm not exactly sure what it is. I'll be more ready, and maybe even a bit joyful to die if that piece fell in place. How about you?" It was a half a lie. All the possible answers are in her head, all of them mixed up, and one of them stands out the most, though she wouldn't give it focus; she wasn't able to.

Loreenzo returns to the comfort of his seat, taking the time as he walked to think of an answer as Dahila watched him go, turning her chest and head.

He sits. The fallen cigar found itself between the same fingers that held it before it fell. His body reclines, relaxes, and then he places the butt-end of his cigar between his dried lips. The cigar wasn't finished yet, and he savored the remaining tobacco smoke. He tilts his head up, breathing out towards the ceiling, watching the smoke evanesce to the air.

"I've tasted immortality, and yet… I'm a dead man. I cheated time, and in turn, I thought I could cheat death. I cheated life. I cheated all the time I lived. And here, is an old man, waiting for all the consequences of his unfair choices to make it all fair, and that old man, is me. And that bringer of justice? Time. I'm a fool, and here I sit, on this regal throne, in this luxurious steel tower, as the emperor of the empire of fools, once immortal… now dying." He said. Another breath taken from the cigar, exhales, smoke pours upward, vanishing into the air, never seen again.

"There is no such thing as an immortal. No such thing as forever… That fact is shrouded for our own good when we are far away from the end of our time, then comes the day when the hours become limited, the seconds drum to the song of demise, and we begin to know it all so well, be reminded of it every day… I've lived grandeur. I have everything I could ever ask for, except more time."

Dahila did not speak, only bowed her head, thinking of anything, any possible phrase or sentence that could at least comfort a man who would have anyone killed with just a point of a finger. He is Lorenzo De Medici, the don of the Medici Mafia, the immortal king of the Canopian underworld, and now he speaks, a choir of all the souls taken by his bloody family singing a melody of slow remorse inside him.

"And that is what I want, and like a cornered beast," He sat straight, a fist clenched on the desk. "We will fight for it to survive, to live. We can fight time, we have done so once, and now, we will battle it again. "

Her head no longer bowed. "A war against time?" Dahila said. "Count me in."

Lorenzo smiled. He leans forward, arms resting on the gilded desktop. "We've seen so much bloodshed, killed so many men and women alike to protect and preserve the greatness that is our family… I admire your consistency, Dahila, but when we fight, we point a gun to the greatest killer of men…"

"Man himself." She said, an automatic response as to complete a long ago quote she had heard.

"Yes, but the true killing contraption is time as well… And man is but a cog in its intricate bloody mechanism, and I have to say… We are the fastest, most efficient cog in the macrocosm that is time…" He finishes his cigar, plunging it to a small black ashtray at his arm's reach, putting out the scarlet glow.

He cups one hand over the other in front of his mouth. "Today, our informer from the Labs will arrive, and tell us the location of the Skull Heart… Once we know, we begin our war... The war to preserve our power, our family, and all that it stands for."

"We really are fools, aren't we? We're daring a fight with time." Dahila said.

Lorenzo chuckled as he took a new cigar and a silver lighter from his suit-pockets. A small ember sparks up; the tip of the cigar touches the flame, then glowing. The lid of the lighter closes, killing the flame. One hand pockets it back to where it was taken. Another toxic inhalation, a cloud of pollution inside his aging throat, it escapes, now a thick, ghostly breath out of his lips. He never got tired of it.

"We are already fools. Why not make the best out of our idiocy?" Lorenzo said. He rested his back, and again, he sits, a lord, ever-thinking, ever-planning, and ever-watching on his golden, cushioned throne. Dahila turns and walks beside his seat, one foot going in front of the other, grace in every movement. Her prosthetic shotgun is pointed up, and her good arm holds her left hip.

"So, my boss darling, what's our first move?"

Again, he smokes for a short moment, returning his cigar-holding hand back to the chair's arm after the smoke escaped. "Once we sorted out her location, we send a spy, know what we're dealing with, then we do the normal procedure."

"Who will it be doing the job this time?"

"Neither. I'll save both of you for last. I want to know how she fights, know what she's good and not good at." Lorenzo said. "We're dealing with a Skull Girl here, and we need to…" He stops speaking as the massive elevator doors at the far-end of the room opens, sending a rumble through the ground.

Light is casted upon Lorenzo's office, and from the platform, were two figures, the taller one having restraining the other from running towards Lorenzo. They walked out, and the light that came disappeared with the closing elevator doors. The shorter suited man was cursing as he tries to pull his arms and shoulders from the clutches of the tall, lanky, robotic hat-and-suit-wearing figure, whose pointed salamander steel head had not moved at all, only facing towards his boss ahead of him. The deep-toned incoherent curses of the shorter man and taps of their leather shoes fill the room, one rapid, the other fixed.

"And who is this, Tom?" Lorenzo said. His posture leaned forward, his head resting on the back of one hand.

"His name's Fortelaza, boss." Tom, the tall figure, said with his voice through a microphone. His suit and trousers were purple with thin white lines vertically cutting the color. On his metal head, a grayish fedora. "Says he's got news about the informer."

Fortelaza, a younger man in a suit-outfit of a lavender color, was finally able to get off the robot's clutches. His hair is an oiled brown, every strand flowing to the right, and his fair face was broad, the nose being larger than average. He speaks, neck sweating and eyes moving from Lorenzo and then to his cigar, then to Dahila, then to other places. To stand in front of the Under-God is a privilege, an honor, and now there he is, his boss, his don, sitting patiently, quietly expecting him to speak.

"B-Boss…" He said, his right on his chest. His voice almost shivers, but its strong accent still recognizable. "Donny, the informer at the Labs, he got hit an hour ago. But everything's okay, boss, he told me the info, before he went to give you a visit, before… and before… he died."

Lorenzo raises a brow. "Well… What did he say?"

"He, he… was on the DNA testing science-thing, to see if the new S.G. had a mark on the Civil Archives. Donny got the info, went to The Crooks, we had some drinks, and he told me that he was gonna see you after, but before that, he told me her name and he went out. Then… I saw people huddled around something when I got outside, went to check what the commotion was, and then I saw Donny, lying on the floor… A needle killed him, boss, a small needle stuck to his neck… After that, I just ran back to the tower…"

Lorenzo turns his head upwards to Dahila, who is still standing beside him. "Sound familiar?"

"Parasite 'Deino'" Dahila said. "It's a synthetic parasite, one of the Labs' lesser creations. He was shot before he even walked in the bar."

Lorenzo returned his attention back to Fortelaza. "He'll be missed…" He said "But let's cut to the chase. Who is the new Skull Girl?"

The mobster's lips pursed as he swallowed. He faces away for a second, his sweating hands smug in his coat-pockets. "I… I couldn't believe it myself, boss… "He said, facing back to Lorenzo. His don's brows were furrowing, expecting him to continue. "She's one of the direct bloods of the family. She's Filia de Medic-" A gasp for air, as if his last breath jetted out of him. He chokes when he approached the last "i", both his eyes roll up, he holds his now vein-pulsating throat, Lorenzo rises from his seat, and Fortelaza's whole body falls face to the floor. Dahila did not move, and Tom only gave the man's breathless body a look.

"What in the Cosmos!" Lorenzo said, his mouth left agape.

Dahila walks toward the corpse. She approached Fortelaza's body and bent down to take something from his stiffening neck. Her fingers found the head of a needle, precisely planted on one of his arteries. She pulled it out, stood straight, and examined the blood-stained silver needle between her normal hand's fingers.

"You did not notice?" Dahila said. "He was a dead man when he entered this room." The needle falls to the floor, and Dahila returned by her master's side. The body of Fortelaza laid motionless on the floor, both hands on his throat, mouth and eyes wide-open, frozen in an expression that begged for air before the suffocation finally took his life. Fortelaza is dead. Dahila spared his corpse a second's glance and said: "Tom, go clean that up." And the robotic figure did so without another word, picking up the body, carrying it by his shoulders, and walking towards the elevator.

Lorenzo had fallen, back to his seat.

He wipes his sweating forehead with his cigar-free hand and lets it stay there. His head rests on the hand—an elbow on the chair-arm—as he began thinking. Tom enters the elevator, the light returning, then the gates close, the light dying. The room is dark again, and growing darker as the dusk approaches. The drumming returns, the tapping beat of his fingers, but this time, slower.

"She's alive…" Lorenzo said, with eyes looked down on the floor.

"And she's the Skull Girl..." Dahila pointed her shotgun-arm and shotgun downwards. "Now what do we do?"

The drumming stopped, and there ensued a pause to make way for Lorenzo's thoughts. He sighs, stiffens his lips, then he speaks. "Contact Cirque De Cartes… Tell the Ringleader that I might have a new job for him."

"Anything else?"

Lorenzo regained his composure. He smokes his cigar once again, and as the thick smoke vanishes, his head turns to Dahila. "Call Leonardo, tell him that I need to see him. And tell him it's about his daughter."

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks for reading this chapter, and thank you to those who stay tuned. Leave a review if it suits you, fave or follow, constructive criticism is welcomed, and see you on the next chapter, dear reader.


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